By Sean C. Wright Neeley
I noticed him immediately. He arrived here too soon, but they say the higher power knows best.
He was beautiful in varying shades of purple – violet, amethyst, and lavender.
He was diminutive, but fit.
He had flawless caramel skin and large, hazel eyes. The eyes had it. They were intense with a mystery I never wanted to solve. He had a beauty mark on his left cheek – the period at the end of a sexy poem.
I knew of him before he came here, but he knew nothing of me. I decided that I would go talk to him on a day that he looked especially stunning with the clouds swirling around him in all his purple glory. His guitar hung casually from his shoulder.
“Hello.” His voice was especially deep; nothing like the falsetto I had often…
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